Follows-the-Root
by auricolet
Summary: An Argonian and former slave seeks out her brother who was taken and set for sacrifice by the Worm Cult, finding herself in Vvardenfell. She is drafted by the Warrior-Poet himself as she hopes her quest will help her find what happened to her long-lost family.


**I am journaling/writing this as I venture through the ESO: Morrowind chapter in Vvardenfell. This is mostly for my own RP purposes with this character, but I figured I should share it with you all since I have been rather inactive otherwise. Please note this WILL contain spoilers to this ESO chapter and will likely not deviate from main quest plotlines very much (though I don't intend to write out all of it either), so I'm not interested in critique about the story content so much.**

* * *

"So - who did you say you were looking for again?" The Dunmer hardly looked up from his desk, his eyes scanning the piles of papers cluttering his desk.

"An Argonian male. Large. Goes by the name of Breaks-Rocks." She gritted her teeth, eyes narrowing slightly, her wrists still sore from the binding's she had escaped from only days prior. Follows rarely let others get under her skin, and she'd not been surprised to find some less than enthused assistance in the heartland of where her people had been kept as slaves for so long, but the journey was taking its toll. "Just let me review your log and see if he's come through?"

He looked up at her, clearly masking a small level of irritation. "I'm afraid not, my friend. I can see you are concerned about your companion-"

"My brother. He is my brother." She closed her first tighter around the hilt of her healing staff. Her heart hurt.

The dark elf sighed, and looked back down at his desk. "I'm sorry, Outlander. We didn't track slaves the way we track travelers. You'd be better off seeking the archived merchant records in Vivec City."

She opened her mouth to rebuttal, but decided against it. Despite his dismissiveness this Dunmer was still loads more agreeable than most she'd had the misfortune to cross paths with. She signed the ledger with her own name, her scrawl crude from the lack of formal education she'd received. But she knew how to write and spell her name.

 _Follows-the-Root_. _Argonian Female._

She left without another word.

Outside the quaint collection of buildings that made up the entirety of Seyda Neen surrounded her, the overgrown mushrooms looming above her eyes. It'd been years since she'd been in Morrowind, she hadn't even dared before the Pact had been formed, for fear of being returned to her old masters' holdings. The brand had faded with each molting, but it was not forgotten by her.

"The Pact. What a farce. Dries my scales..." She mumbled to herself, grinding the butt of the staff into the dirt. The sun was already past it zenith, and Sithis knew she had a long enough walk as it was. Best to get started. She'd made it hardly three paces before a panting Dunmer woman approached her, in earnest.

"Please, we need a Healer. They were attacked in the crypt - by Daedra! Just follow me down the road a little ways, please!"

Follows had taken up the mantle of healer and life-bringer since her hatchling days, and her duty to the wounded and sick did not stop at Dunmer, however the idea displeased her. And this woman didn't seem the likely sort to set up an ambush.

"Very well - take me to her." She hurriedly made her way behind the Dunmer, keeping her hand tight on her staff, and a sharp eye aware in case this was another trap. It did not take long before they came across several priests kneeling beside an armored guard, gasping. The story had been true.

"Give me some room…" Follows snapped, her tail twitching as she sought the wounds. The magick was sickly, and immediately it had a foreign taste, despite the flames that had clearly licked away at the poor victim's body. She'd only seen it a few times before, though it seemed it was making its appearance more and more frequently. Daedric magick. With careful incantations and a gentle coaxing of earthen magick she felt the victim's body ease. It was as her new patient seemed to relax, the odd flavor slowly leeching away that she took notice of the traveling companions.

She kept her instructions brief. "Your friend needs a place to rest for a time. Probably someone with more alchemy than I know."

"Thank you, kind stranger." The woman, clearly a priestess, made genuine eye contact with the Argonian, and Follows felt a strange kinship immediately. "We were attacked as we were trying to reach the Ancestor's tomb. But.. we never expected Daedra."

"I-" She stopped mid sentence as the third Dunmer suddenly fell to the ground. _Sithis...not another._

The light emanated from the woman's body as it raised and suddenly the image of Azura took hold, the voice echoing a warning that Follows could scarcely understand the words of. The message itself was clear: there was more here than she could guess.

"Our friend. He waits still at the tomb. He cannot go alone." The priestess was pleading. Something this argonian was not accustomed to.

She found herself answering, despite her own better sense. "I'll go assist your friend. Now go get this one to a proper healer and bed."

"Vivec guide you, traveler!"

* * *

Her rendez-vous with the third member of the party she was sent to assist had been overtly grateful for the help, bringing an Argonian with him to his family tomb to recite some esoteric questions to a long-dead ancestor. Her travels rarely were so interesting. The Daedra, though expected, had shaken the argonian. As she accompanied the Dunmer the figure to the seat of Vivec of the mighty Ziggurats made their appearance, the shadows against the dying sunlight cast long. She felt a crawling sensation from her head to the tip of her tail, a nervous energy balled up as she felt as though she crawled to the belly of the beast. They made their way past the quaint sprawl of the marketplace just outside the main city, her eyes taking in the scene filled with things both familiar and foreign. The stablemaster with his small herd of guar made her feel a little more at home. Her eyes wistfully settled on the large freckled male, whose broad back would certainly made for a comfortable journey. But the slavers had taken everything, every last piece of gold. She had nothing to bargain with save her skills.

The priest had fallen silent as they entered the city's limits, and his solemn energy suggested to her that he either sensed something amiss or that he was still incredibly nervous. The daedra earlier may have been a testament to that, but she wondered how an audience with the Vivec would be any worse.

Through the doorway, she had to squint her eyes at first from the light emanating from the cross-legged figure, who levitated above the throne with an easy energy. She found he greeted her with both that fine energy and his expression, kindly even. Perhaps the most kindly she'd been appraised by a Dunmer. "Ah, so this is our helpful Outsider."

She knelt, going down on one knee. "Follows-the-Root, Lord Vivec."

"Welcome, Follows. My priest tells me you healed one of my guards and helped him complete his task. Your hard work should be rewarded. What is it you seek?"

"My brother. His name is Breaks-Rocks. He was sold to an unnamed Altmer mage along with a large portion of others from Dalvnvil of House Dres. I was told he may have returned to Morrowind."

"I am sorry, Outlander, but I do not know of this one's place. But perhaps, the divine influence has brought you to me and I to you. Perhaps we can aid each other in these trying times?"

"I would like not to dally on my quest, if you permit, my lord."

The elder mage huffed. "Did you even have the same mother? I thought you were all hatched in a nest, no _real_ siblings to speak of."

She ground her jaw. But kept her temper from flaring.

"Enough, Tarvus. Perhaps our friend here can see how we might both benefit from each other's help."

He gestured to a pool in the center of the throne room, the water shimmering, reflecting her green eyes back to her. She, Vivec and Tarvus made a triangle in their position around the pool and she watched mesmerized as a series of ghostly images appeared before her. She did not understand it all, the dwemer machinery, the strangely-dressed Dunmer - but she did pay close attention as a cultist appeared, brandishing fire.

The truth was that she had heard rumors of cultists, and their role in the sudden disappearance of many throughout Tamriel, especially those sold into slavery. As much as she despised the idea of pledging her services to the Lord of the Dunmer she had made an oath to do anything she could to find Breaks-Rocks. And the lead she'd been given was all but dead before this series of strange events. Without question, there was activity of a daedric nature residing in Vvardenfell, and she had yet not found such strong evidence herself, despite the rumors that flew from every province in Tamriel.

"Very well." She stood from her kneeling position, languidly as her reptilian anatomy allowed, and bowed before the Warrior Poet's station. "I'll speak with your magistrate and see what I can do."


End file.
